


Jackass

by lonespirit



Series: Geralt Shorts [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:40:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29814774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonespirit/pseuds/lonespirit
Summary: Shorts in which Geralt and OC/reader interact on different levels.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Geralt Shorts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191650
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

Shit.

“The fuck, Geralt!?”

Fuck.

“Did you just fall into her with your cock!?”

Damnit.

“No. I fucked her. There was a lot leading up to it.”

“How about you never fucking do that with anyone else again while I'm alive!?”

“I am sorry.”

That seemed to quell her into silence for the time being. Her anger was visible, but she had stopped her oral tirade regarding my fidelity.

“I get that you are immortal, and that she is fucking hot, but Geralt you have crossed a gorram line!”

I couldn't help it; my wife is adorable when she's angry. And angry she is.

“Don't fucking look at me like that! You've crossed a serious line, asshole! Infidelity, as you'll remember, is a huge breaking point!”

My feet moved of their own volition toward her, stopping just inches from her as she steamed and broiled in her anger.

“Keep your gorram cock in your pants, you fucker!”

“I'm sorry. I will.”

This seemed to give her pause, her face contorting into that of deep thought before she met my gaze again.

“You fuck around, I fuck around.”

A soft growl escaped me, the thought of her with another male making my blood pump harder through my veins. The mere idea of her beneath, on top of, or bent over by some other male angered me to the extent that I had grabbed her wrists and pulled her against me without realizing I was doing so.

“You will never, ever, be with another.”

“Like you did?” 

Her angry hiss of a response jolted me back into reality, knowing full well that I had fucked up. Releasing her wrists I straightened myself. 

“I'm sorry. It will never happen again, and if you choose to....”

No. I couldn't. I won't.

“If you choose to fuck another, I will not hold it against you.”

Her eyes hardened, her lips pursing into a thin line.

“The hell just came out of your mouth? You fucking know better, Geralt.”

Indeed I knew better, but the offer was out there now. I know she would never do something like sleeping around just to hurt me or get even, but in that moment I saw her ire for what it was: something not to be fucked with.

“Never.. never... fucking do it again or I shall skin you alive and use your hide as a winter coat!”

I nod, giving my utmost consent to her threat, knowing it was not an empty one.

“I will never want, nor do so again. You will not need worry about it.”

“I will now always worry about it, jackass.”

She never lied. Not once.


	2. Long Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geralt and his mortal have 'the talk.'

Bloodied, battered, utterly defeated. I had nowhere to go, nobody to turn to.

“Geralt,” a soft gasp from my right.

I barely turned my face in the direction before collapsing to the ground. My body, inhuman as it was, decided to give out on me. I felt the pressure of her hands through my armor as I laid face-up in the mud. The beast had almost won, but I had taken it down in the end.

But at what cost?

“Geralt, stay with me,” she murmured, her breath caressing my ear.

I felt her hands unfasten my armor, delicately removing it from my torso. Once her fingers had undone my shirt, the brush of her fingertips sent a chill along my body. I could feel the goosebumps surface wherever she touched, her fingers moving along the fresh wounds on my chest and stomach.

“Oh, Geralt. I know you're immortal, but this is just...”

When she trailed off I lifted a hand to cup her cheek, knowing that my voice would come out as nothing more than a cracking murmur given the damage to my body.

“Just future scars.”

She leaned her cheek into my palm, her gaze shifting to mine as her fingertips trailed up my chest and neck to rest against my cheek.

“Scars that I will gaze upon. The scars you already have make me grateful you're alive.”

My heart beat harder, watching her gaze lower to the fresh gashes in my body from the fight with the Manticore. 

“I will live much longer than you.”

The truth of the statement hit her differently than I had anticipated. She seemed to accept it as a fact of life, which it was, but her acceptance took me aback.

“I know. That is why I must give you my best me before I go.”

“Hmmm.”

“Don't do that.”

“Do what?”

“That 'hmmmm' crap. Don't do that with me. It's aggravating, and makes me think you don't quite grasp that I understand what this is.”

That statement brought on a new sense of awareness that I had been staving off until this moment. She's mortal, I'm not. What would our futures hold? Would I wander the world heartbroken after her death? Would she live alone without me for the rest of her short life?

“Don't. Do. That.”

Her words brought me back into the present.

“Don't do what?”

“Don't tread where I cannot, whether it's physical or in your mind.”

That halted any and all thoughts of her mortality and my immortality. This woman knew what she wanted, who she wanted, and when she wanted whatever she wanted. Even her attempts to tend my wounds revealed her intentions regarding us.

“What happens when you've gone?”

“Whatever you decide happens.”

She fixed me with that knowing gaze, making me feel a fool.

“If you decide to re-bed, re-marry, whatever... I'll be long dead and you'll still be alive.”

I pursed my lips at her response, feeling as though it was an inadequate answer. I flinched when I felt her hand come sharply into contact with my hip.

“Long. Dead. Got it?”

“Yes, ma'am.”


End file.
